A Simple Kind of Man
by Dahlia23
Summary: Coauthored with Maggieloo402. When Bella, card carrying city girl, is forced to take a trip to the deep south, she finds everything she never wanted. Can Edward, good ol' country boy, be all that she needs?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey, lovelies! Welcome to A Simple Kind of Man, a collaboration between Maggieloo402 and myself. We hope you guys like this! Many, many thanks to DaniaMCullen for prereading. **

**Oh, and today, August 24, is dear Maggieloo's birthday. Wish her a happy one, okay? :)**

**Maggie, I heart you. **

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

BPOV

_Sometimes, I think people expect too much from me. Really. Either that or I am overworked and underpaid intentionally_, I thought to myself.

After a moment of consideration, I decided on the latter. I huffed and pushed my hair out of my face before returning to the stack of papers in front of me.

I had recently been promoted to Fashion News Director for Vogue magazine in San Francisco. In my new position, I was in charge of all the fashion features. I loved my job, really. One week, I may be traveling to Paris for the fashion shows. Other days, I might be styling a shoot, meeting with a new, young designer, or writing or editing articles at the office. It seemed as if I had finally reached my dream job, but I was swamped.

Ever since my promotion, I had been working later hours and then taking my work home with me, only to fall asleep with my head on my desk and a pen still in my hand.

Checking the silver watch that dangled from my wrist, I realized that once again, it was half an hour past the end of the business day and I was no where near the end of my work.

With one last look at the daunting pile of articles I was supposed to have finished today, I pulled out my leather Coach briefcase and prepared to pack the file away to revisit tonight.

As I closed the folder, my Blackberry began to vibrate on my desk.

I cursed under my breath, expecting another last minute task from my boss, Janet, who apparently thought I worked at a superhuman speed. So far, I had done nothing to pique her irritation, but I had heard that she was a storm I was smart to avoid.

I felt my brow wrinkle as I picked up my phone, noticing my father's name across the top of the screen. It was strange for him to call-he was never one for frequent conversation.

"Hello?"

"Hey Bells," Charlie's gravely voice echoed through the phone.

I wrinkled my nose at his old nickname for me. "Hey, Dad."

"What do you need, Dad?" I asked after a long silence. It's not that I was trying to rush his call, but Charlie was usually one to get to the point rather than letting the silence linger.

"Charlie?" I asked after another beat of silence.

"Sorry," he mumbled, and I noted the downcast tone in his voice. "I was just calling to let you know that Grandpa Swan died last night."

"Oh, Dad, I'm sorry." I froze as I searched for words to comfort my father. I hardly knew my grandfather, but I knew he and my father had been close. Before I could say anything else, Charlie began again.

"The funeral is going to be on Saturday, and the receiving of friends is Friday evening. I thought we could get there Wednesday to help with the arrangements. I can book your flight for you, but-"

I almost choked as the words came through the phone, but his melancholy kept my disbelief in check.

"Dad, I can't go."

He was silent for a moment after I interrupted him, so I took the silence to explain.

"You know I just started my new job, and I'm already swamped. I've been dealing with so much the past few days- I'm exhausted. I really can't afford to take time off right now."

Charlie took a loud, deep breath. "Bella, this was my father. You're coming to the funeral. Like I said, I can book your ticket, but you'll need to let me know what your schedule is like."

"Dad, I just told you what my schedule is like. I don't have time to take a trip to the middle of nowhere right now! Do they even have Wi-Fi?"

"Do they have _what_? Bella, I know your job is important, but this is family. Your boss will understand. I'm booking you a ticket out of San Francisco Wednesday morning. I'll let you know the time once I book it. I'll see you then."

I heard a click before I could reply.

I threw the organized files and carefully stacked papers into my bag haphazardly, and I stalked out of my office to the elevator at the end of the hall.

OoOoOoOoO

My boss was less than understanding about the situation, but she agreed to let me go, providing I took my computer and Blackberry with me to stay on top of work and in touch with clients.

I was half hoping that Janet would forbid me to go; I still felt insecure in my new position and I was afraid that something like this would make me fall behind and lose my job. I had worked hard for this, and I wasn't about to lose it because I had to take a trip to butt-fuck nowhere.

Dragging my suitcase behind me, I made my way into the San Francisco airport bright and early Wednesday morning.

The lady at the ticket counter seemed especially slow this morning, but for once I was content to wait.

As I sipped the last bit of my Frappuchino and brushed a wrinkle out of my simple black Ralph Lauren tunic dress, I finally heard the woman call for the next in line, and with a grumble, I stepped forward to the counter.

"Good morning, where are you headed today?" she asked in a tone that was far too chipper for the early hour.

"Birmingham, Alabama," I muttered scornfully.

I wanted to complain to her that Birmingham was only the beginning of this wretched trip, but I kept my mouth shut while I handed her my driver's license so that she could print my boarding passes.

In no time at all, she had printed the tickets and handed them to me in a neat little envelope, wishing me a "wonderful trip" while I jerked my small carry-on bag away from the counter and trudged toward security.

The flight was stuffy and uncomfortable; I was traveling to Alabama, I shouldn't have expect anything better. The man in the row behind me snored the entire time, and even the music from my iPod couldn't drown out the noise.

Right as I began to doze, the stewardess came over the speaker and announced our decent into Birmingham. I sighed, frustrated, while I leaned forward to let my seat pop up behind me, only half listening as the stewardess talked about baggage claim and transportation. She did, however, catch my interest when she began talking about the weather.

Eighty eight degrees. Seventy two percent humidity. Heat index of one hundred and one.

I glanced out the window, half expecting to see everything outside literally melting in the heat. I already missed the cooler temperatures of San Francisco and we hadn't even landed yet.

I discovered a message from Charlie on my Blackberry once the plane touched down and phones were allowed again, letting me know that he would be waiting in one of the coffee shops in the terminal, as his flight had landed half an hour before mine.

It had been a while since I had seen Charlie, so when I noticed him sitting uncomfortably in the corner of the shop, my first genuine smile of the day appeared, and I quickened my pace to give him a hug.

"Hey, Bells!" he greeted me warmly, returning my hug. "How was the flight?"

I shook my head in response. He didn't need to hear me complaining already.

"It was fine. How was yours?"

"Good, good. You look nice."

I laughed lightly at his observation.

"That's my job!"

He smiled playfully and laughed along with me.

"Do you want coffee or anything before we go?" he asked, waving in the direction of the coffee counter.

I gladly accepted his offer for my second coffee of the day, and we went to the baggage claim to find our bags before renting the car that we would drive to Millerville.

As soon as we stepped outside to the car that was now waiting by the curb, I was reminded of the terrible weather that the stewardess had announced.

The air was so thick with humidity, it was practically unbreatheable.

"Southern humidity is in full swing this summer," Charlie joked, and I realized that he had removed his glasses and was now wiping wet fog from the lenses. I shook my head in disbelief.

"How do people live in this?" I exclaimed as I quickened my steps to get to the air conditioned car. I could already feel the humidity pulling my hair out from its perfectly straightened style.

Charlie just shrugged, clearly just as perplexed as I was.

I huffed in response before sliding in the car and flipping down the visor and opening the mirror on the other side. As I inspected my appearance, I noticed Charlie's sidelong glance from the driver's seat.

"You look fine, Bella," he assured me. "No one here cares what you look like anyway."

"_I _care," I retorted before rolling my eyes irritably and flipping the visor back up.

We made the drive in near total silence, due in part, to my exhaustion. My flight had left San Francisco at six this morning, but it was only a little past noon here due to the time change. This was going to be one of the longest days of my life, both literally and figuratively.

We passed the 'Welcome to Millerville' sign right before houses began spotting the landscape. Most had long, gravel driveways, allowing the houses large front yards and the woods behind for a backyard.

Tire swings hung from thick oak trees in the front of some yards, and some had flower gardens of sunflowers or other colorful blossoms. Spotted in with these picturesque country houses were also the less appealing ones. Many of the yards were occupied by old broken down or wrecked cars, some rusting, some up on car jacks, without tires-some were even up on concrete blocks! Others had yards cluttered with assorted items that I first assumed were yard sale items, but after seeing several of these, I realized that the items were not for sale, but rather for decoration. After that discovery, I slumped back in my seat, muttering something about rednecks and hicktowns that I'm lucky Charlie didn't hear.

"You hungry?" Charlie asked, pulling me out of my pout.

My stomach growled as if on cue, and I remembered that I hadn't eaten yet today.

"Starved."

"Good, I know the perfect place."

I nodded in agreement as Charlie turned onto the next road.

We pulled into the gravel parking lot of a dilapidated white building with a rickety sign that boasted the name "Court Cafe" in faded red letters. My nose wrinkled at the sight.

"I can't believe it's still here!" Charlie said proudly as he cut the engine and got out of the car.

I stepped out onto the gravel, but had to immediately grab the car for support.

"You alright, Bells?" Charlie laughed as he came around the car to help me.

"I can't walk in the gravel with these heels on," I snapped, irritated that the gravel was probably ruining my three hundred dollar Stuart Weitzman pumps.

Charlie started to laugh, but I shot him a look that silenced him immediately. Instead, he composed himself and walked over to where I stood, still hanging onto the car door, to offer me his arm.

I took it to steady myself as I walked gingerly through the gravel, breathing a deep sigh of relief when we reached the concrete sidewalk.

"I hope you brought more sensible shoes," Charlie commented as he opened the door for me.

I glared at him before entering the diner, and looking around.

The whole place held the overwhelming stench of bacon grease and cigarette smoke-an offending combination. It was full of booths and chairs covered in worn red leather, most of them split open so that the stuffing was pushing through.

"This is the place you're so proud of?"

Charlie just chuckled and led me to a table in the center of the room. I felt like everyone in the place was staring at us, and I struggled to hold my head up and try not to shrink into a slouch.

I sat uncomfortably across from Charlie as I surveyed the room surreptitiously. There were mostly men in the diner today, most wearing tattered shorts or jeans with holes worn into the knees. Many of them were wearing white shirts that had yellowed with time. I counted three mullets. All the patrons looked rough-not one of them would have fit in on the streets of San Francisco.

I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest. I had just gotten here and I couldn't wait to get home.

"Wait here, kiddo, I'm going to go say hello to an old friend."

I scowled at the nickname, but he had already turned his back and was walking toward the counter.

"Charlie Swan!" the lady behind the counter exclaimed.

A small grin danced on my lips at the thick accent in her voice when she bellowed Charlie's name, but I didn't dare let the laugh escape.

"Hey, Es, how's it going around here?"

"Same 'ol, same 'ol," she replied, placing her hands on her hips. A hint of sadness entered her round hazel eyes and she spoke again.

"Edward told me about your dad. So sorry to hear that. He was such a good man. Always so good to Edward."

Charlie nodded somberly before relaxing into one of the stools that lined the counter.

"I hate that we didn't get down here before he passed."

The woman placed her hand over Charlie's on the counter in a comforting gesture and offered a gentle smile. It was such a foreign gesture; it was strange for me to see that kind of intimacy between the two of them, they were virtually strangers!

They fell into an easy conversation, and I tuned them out as I took the menu from its place between the condiments on the table and began looking it over.

The menu boasted "specials" like fried green tomatoes, soup beans and cornbread, chicken fried steak and gravy, fried catfish, and the most unbelievable, frog legs.

This was _not_ food. Dogs in San Francisco ate better than this. I glanced again at Charlie, who was still talking to the woman behind the counter, and I was about to call him to ask if we could go somewhere else when his phone started ringing.

He pulled it from his pocket and flipped it open, bringing it to his ear to answer the call.

As he did, the little woman behind the counter's face puckered and frown lines creased her forehead as she began wildly gesturing toward a sign behind her on the wall and hoarsely whispering to Charlie.

My eyes followed her motions to a sign that read "NO CELLPHONES".

Charlie covered the receiver and whispered that it was about the funeral, but the woman shook her head and pointed to the door. I watched as he rose from the stool and walked grudgingly toward the door.

I didn't know whether to laugh that Charlie was just ordered out of the diner or roll my eyes that the old fashioned place didn't even allow phones inside.

I turned back to the menu once again, but the sound of the door flying open behind me caught my attention. The person who entered held it.

"Hey, Momma!" a tall, lean man called across the diner to the woman Charlie had been talking to a moment before.

He was bare chested with a thin white tank top thrown over his shoulder, and I couldn't help but notice the defined muscles that rippled under his skin as he moved. He was tanned except for the back of his neck, which was tinted red from the remnants of a sunburn he must have gotten. His lower half was covered in heavy camouflage pants that were now hanging loosely off his hips, and he wore chunky brown boots that were caked with mud.

His bronze colored hair stuck out in all different directions, but somehow it suited him, and his bright green eyes were such a color that they stood out brilliantly against his dark skin. They were both playful and genuine, and right now they were full of excitement as he strode through the diner.

His path to the counter where his mother stood took him right past my table, and that was where my fascination with him ended abruptly. I had to turn away in disgust at the smell that lingered after he passed. If I had to put a name to the scent, I would say he smelled like something dead, but it was worse. It was sour, almost. He smelled like a sour, dead carcass.

"Edward Cullen!" his mother crowed. "You are not above the rules of this diner even if I do own it! Put that shirt on this instant! You're covered in dirt!"

She brushed at the layer of dust that lay across his broad shoulders and defined arms with a napkin as he casually pulled his shirt over his head.

"I don' see what the problem is," he complained as he settled into the same stool Charlie had been sitting in. "I don' wear a shirt nowhere. 'S not like nobody here ain't seen me without mah shirt."

He turned to face the rest of the diner's patrons as if seeking approval from them, but when he did, his eyes caught and held mine. I felt my face color slightly, but I tried to sit straight and ignore him. With his shirt on, it was much easier to do.

He raised his eyebrows slightly as our eyes locked, and with a sideways glance at his mother, he mumbled, "Er, mayb' not."

Before the woman could respond, he had hopped down off the stool and was headed in my direction. I felt like sinking down into my chair until I disappeared.

His stench was bad enough when he was just passing by, but when he took the seat across from me at the table and spun it around so that he was straddling it when he sat down, I almost choked.

"Edward Cullen," he began, sticking out one grimy hand as if he expected me to shake it.

My eyes slowly moved from the playful grin on his face to the disgusting hand he had extended toward me.

"I'm not going to shake your hand," I stated bluntly as I crossed my arms over my chest.

His hand fell limp before he tucked it under his other arm on the back of the chair.

"Why's that?"

"Because it's disgusting and I'm about to eat lunch," I replied.

He feigned hurt, but before he could say anything in return, I spoke again.

"And could you move? I'll have to be able to breathe when my meal comes and I can't do that with your horrid smell."

His nose wrinkled as if he were trying to catch a whiff of the smell I found so offensive, and then his crooked smile returned. He leaned closer, as if he were planning to tell me a secret, and I instinctively leaned away at the smell.

"That's premium doe estrus spray darlin'. Only the best 'round here."

"Excuse me?"

His crooked smile got even wider. He was enjoying this.

"'S deer piss-of a doe in heat."

My eyes widened and I could feel my mouth opening and closing dumbly.

I finally realized I had been holding my breath-probably a reaction against the offensive odor-and took a deep breath to regain my composure.

"Get away from me!" I practically shouted at him.

"Lord, don' they teach yuh Yankees any common courtesy?" he asked with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. I could tell that he wasn't actually angry with me, but that he was just teasing me.

"I'm not a Yankee," I retorted.

"Where ya from?" he challenged.

"San Francisco."

"Same thang."

"It's not."

He looked down at the table between us for a moment while he appeared to be sucking on his front teeth. It was quiet for a moment while I glared at him, willing him to leave me alone.

He slowly lifted his eyes to me, gazing at me through long lashes with a crooked smile on his face as though he were privy to some amusing joke.

"What's yer name, sugar?" he drawled slowly.

I hardened my glare so that he would be sure I wasn't going soft on him. "Bella Swan."

The coy look immediately disappeared from his face, and he raised his head so that he was looking at me squarely. The change in his demeanor confused me, and I was about to ask him about it, but the bell on the door chimed again, pulling his attention away from me.

"I cain't wait ta see 'at fucker on the wall!" a deep voice bellowed behind me.

When I glanced back at Edward, his expression had changed, and he was standing to talk to the beast of a man that had just come through the door.

"Hell yeah," he agreed, "'At sonofabitch is goin' right in the livin'room."

The new man had come around the table to stand beside Edward, and they began speaking in a dialogue so far from normal English that I just tuned them out.

This new man was just as sloppily dressed as Edward, but he wore a camouflaged cap that boasted what must be years of wear, and even when he took it off, the brown curls on his head maintained the shape of the cap. His face was covered in a boyish grin so that I could tell whatever they were discussing was exciting to him.

"Who's this?" he asked after a minute, looking at me and raising his eyebrows in the same way Edward had.

"Name's Bella," Edward replied as if I weren't even sitting there. "She's just in town fer a couple o' days."

I started to open my mouth to ask how he knew I was only here temporarily, but Charlie chose that moment to come back to the table, apparently having finished his conversation with whoever had called. I couldn't snap a reply to Edward's condescending tone in front of Charlie, so I settled with a stiff glare at both him and his friend before deciding to ignore them again.

"Well hello, boys," Charlie greeted them as he turned his chair back around. "Did you meet my daughter, Bella?"

"Yes, sir," both boys replied, smiling at both Charlie and I before they exchanged pleasantries with Charlie and went back to sit at the counter where Edward had been before.

"I hope you weren't rude," Charlie said in a warning tone. Even though I was far too old to be chastised like a child, Charlie knew when I had acted out.

I just sighed, knowing I couldn't deny it. I hadn't meant to be rude, exactly, but something about Edward intimidated me in an unfamiliar way, and my defense had been my rude behavior. And frankly, he was repulsive.

Charlie helped me choose something that I could stomach from the menu. Even though it was practically fried bread and grease, I ate the chicken fried steak with gravy thicker than pancake batter quickly, just so I could get away from this place to a nice, clean hotel room.

Charlie paid the bill, which was cheaper than anything you could get in San Francisco, and he helped me to the door. I could feel eyes on me from all directions as I walked out of the restaurant-the two most noticeable pairs coming from the counter-but I chose to ignore them.

The bell on the door jingled once again as Charlie opened it for me, and he called a goodbye to Edward's mother before we stepped out into the Alabama heat.

I surveyed the parking lot for our rental car, but what I saw instead caused me to freeze there on the sidewalk. I felt my stomach lurch, and the only words I could manage came out between shallow breaths.

"What...the..._hell_?"

EPOV

Grandpa Swan was gone.

It was just too much for me to wrap my head around. He'd been sick for awhile, but I guess I just thought he'd live forever.

He was just a little ol' man, probably not six feet tall and a hundred and thirty pounds soakin' wet. His skin was thin; it seemed like he was always covered in bruises. His face was full o' lines and wrinkles-Grandpa Swan had definitely aged over the last 15 years. One thing about him never changed, though. He always had them big ol' brown eyes that practically looked through a person, rather than just at 'im.

When my mom, Esme, and my dad, Carlisle bought the house next to old man Swan's, he took me in like I was one o'his own. Dad worked at the lumber yard in town, and stayed gone a lot. Mom had just started working at the diner. When they were working, Grandpa Swan was there, a-lookin' after me.

When I was a just a pup, he'd take me fishin', and taught me everything there was to know about huntin'. He taught me how to bait a hook, how to cast a line, and drive a boat before I started kindergarten. When I got older, he taught me how to shoot a gun, how to use a bow and arrow, and all about the best invention ever was-the muzzleloader. I'll never forget the look on his face when I reeled in my first small mouth. He was so damn proud of that half pounder he'd had the thing fuckin' mounted for me. I came in one day, and found him in my room, hanging it over my bed, lookin' happy as a pig in the mud. It was the same when I got my first buck.

"_A man's gotta mount his first, son. Ye hang the special'uns on the wall. Everything else, yuh eat. Ain't no sense killin' it if ye ain't gonna eat it er give it a place of honor in yer house."_

More than huntin' and fishin', though, Grandpa Swan taught me about life, and how to be the kinda man that would make my momma proud.

"_You wanna know the secret to life, kid?" he asked the night before I started high school._

"_Sure, Grandpa Swan," I said with a sigh._

"_There ain't no damn secret," he chortled. "All ye can do is go through yer day like yer momma's a-watchin' ye, and man up and say you's wrong when ye get caught actin' like she ain't."_

Grandpa Swan had a way of lookin' at me when he talked. It was like he was a-tellin' me the cleaned-up version of what he really meant, but his eyes told me the cold, hard truth. _"High school is big, kid, but don't be dumbass and mess up yer life before it really starts."_

I don't know if it was his words, or them big ol' eyes of his, but whatever he said stuck with me. Whenever I'd find myself 'bout to cause a ruckus or pull some stupid shit with Jasper and Emmett, I'd hear that old fucker in my head, or worse, I'd imagine my momma watchin' me.

That ol' man knew exactly what he was a-doin' when he dished out his 'wisdom'.

When I was 16, I willin'ly went to him for advice for the first time.

"_Grandpa Swan,what's love supposed ta'feel like?"_

_He chuckled and took a long pull from his cigar. "Never one for the easy stuff, huh kid?"_

"_See, there's 'is girl...Charlotte...we've been goin' out' for a while, and last night, she told me she loved me."_

"_Hmm...what'd ye say?"_

"_Nothin.' I ran away like a chicken shit. I didn't wanna say somethin' I don't mean, and I don't know if I'd mean that er not."_

_He laughed. "I guess you've put yerself in a pickle, kid."_

_I was pissed. I couldn't believe he was laughin' at me. I stood to leave, and he pulled me back down to the chair beside him, and patted my shoulder roughly._

"_Hold yer horses, son. I'll answer ye question." He took a deep breath before continuing, "When yuh first see that special girl, she'll be all you can think about. The first time ya lay eyes on 'er, she'll own every part of ye that yuh swore ye'd never give away. Bein' aroun' 'er will make ya feel like shit, 'cause ye know ye ain't worth her time-but she'll make yuh feel like yer the only thing that matters to 'er. She'll be th'only person that can break yer heart, but she holds it together instead. She'll be able to rile yuh up, calm ya down, and work ye over with a touch of 'er hand or a look in 'er eye. When ye fall in love, kid, nothin' is yer own anymore."_

"_Sounds...fun," I said sarcastically._

"_Misery in it's finest, son. But it won't matter-she'll be th'only thing 'at does." By the time he'd finished, I could tell that he was thinking of his own love-the woman he'd lost before I's a glimmer in my Daddy's eye._

_Leavin' him to his thoughts, I stood and walked out of his house, and off the porch. I got as far as his driveway when I heard his shaky voice. "Edward?"_

"_Yeah, gramps?"_

_He sighed, and looked in my eyes. "If yer a-doubtin' it..." he trailed off._

'_It ain't there,' I finished in my head._

"_Yeah. Thanks, Grandpa Swan."_

When I went off to college with plans on becomin' a doctor, he was there again, guidin' me along.

"_Yer a man now, Edward. Go make ye a simple, satisfied life. 'S all a man can do. And for God's sake, son, have some fun."_

Four years later, I felt like I was on top o' the world. I'd been livin' it up and workin' my ass off at the University of Alabama. I graduated top o'my class, aced the MCATs, and had a scholarship to Johns Hopkins medical school. Then, ev'rthing came to a screechin' halt when my momma called me, a-cryin' her eyes out.

"_Edward, yer Daddy...there was an accident at the lumber yard...his leg-"_

"_Momma, I'm on my way."_

Turned out, my dad's leg had shattered when a truck bed broke down, and sent trees flyin' all over the yard-one of 'em landed on 'is leg. He needed physical therapy, and someone to help 'im get around. His doctors weren't sure if he'd ever get back the full use of 'is leg.

My Daddy was a big ol' boy, a good two hundr'd pounds of muscle; my Momma wasn't no bigger'n a minute. Wasn't no way she could take care o' him by herself.

It was simple; it wasn't even a question. I cancelled my enrollment at Johns Hopkins so I could help take care o' my old man.

E'rybody said I was stupid. Said I's throwin' my life away.

"_Edward, don't be like 'is. I can handle it," Momma said._

"_Son, I ain't gonna be the reason ye never leave Millerville. Yer too good for 'is place," Dad said._

"_Fuck, Edward, yer gonna be stuck here the rest o'yer life if ye stay here. Get out while ye still can," Jasper and Emmett said._

Grandpa Swan ne'er said a word about it. One look in his eyes, though, and I knew.

He woulda done the same damn thing.

I told myself, and everyone else, that I'd go back after Dad could walk again, but three years later, I's still in Millerville. Emmett had helped me get a part time job as a forest ranger, so I could save some money for school and help Dad at the same time. When Dad could do more on 'is own, I started workin' full time. Workin' with Emmett was fun, and I liked the work. I decided to stick around; I didn't wanna leave. We got an apartment with Jasper, and I ain't looked back. Life was simple, and I was satisfied.

Grandpa Swan fell sick, and it just made sense for me to help take care of 'im. From what I heard, his family was in Washington, and they couldn't make it down to Alabama. So I stepped in, and did what I could for 'im. I helped him around, cut his grass, and took 'im to the doctor when I could. He'd been there for me, so I figured it was my turn to be there fer him.

When he took his last breath that evenin', I'd been with him, talkin' about cuttin' his grass. He closed his eyes, and just...stopped. I called the authorities, and watched as they wheeled him out o'his house. After I called my Momma and told her the news, I called Emmett and told him I wouldn't be in work for a few days. Then, I sat in Grandpa Swan's favorite chair and cried myself to sleep like a little girl.

I woke up in the middle of the night, and did the only thing 'at made sense. I went home, showered with my scent blockin' soap and shampoo, put on my unscented deoderant, and pulled on my camoflauge shirt and pants, then yanked on my favorite boots. I tucked my hair under an orange cap, and slipped on the vest before dousing myself with my premium doe estrus spray. Grabbing my bow, jumped in my Chevy pickup truck, and headed for the woods.

Reaching the edge of the forest, I parked and began my trek through the trees. It wasn't long before I found the familiar tree stand, the one Grandpa Swan and I had shared, and climbed up.

This was good.

This was right.

This was exactly what Grandpa Swan woulda wanted me to do.

I took in my surroundin's, and settled in for a long night.

...

_11:30 a.m._

_Fuck it._

I'd been out all damn night, and _nothin'_. I'd thought that bein' here, our place, woulda made me feel better, hurt less. A'ter sitting there and watching the leaves blow around all goddamn night, though, I felt just as shitty.

Could I really've expected anythin' differ'nt? Some kinda sign or some shit, that ev'rthang was gon' be okay? Stuff like that don' fuckin' happen.

The sun was shinin' through the trees. I sighed. Grandpa Swan's grass needed to be cut that morning, before his family showed up. It was time for me ta'head 'em up and move 'em out.

As I turned to pack up, I heard the familiar sound of hooves clumpin' toward me.

_Hell yeah._

I picked up my bow and looked through the scope. Just ahead of me was the biggest buck I'd ever seen-a fourteen pointer. I loaded the arrow silently, and prepared to shoot. The buck turned toward me, and I swear the fucker _smiled_ at me.

One squeeze of the release, and he was mine. I hoped Jasper could keep that smile on the son of a bitch's face when he mounted 'im. Whenever I would pass by that sucker from his place of honor on my wall, I'd feel like Grandpa Swan was a-lookin' down on me from wherever he was.

With a smile on my face, I walked to my truck, grabbed my phone, and called Emmett. I couldn't pack that sucker down from the mountain by myself.

"Hello?"

"Em, what time you gotta work?" I asked quickly.

"Edward? What the fuck's wrong?"

"Nothin', nutsucker. I need some help. I got me a buck just now."

"You went huntin'? Shit, I'd'a went."

"Last minute. Anyway, what time ya gotta work?"

"Three o'clock. How big is it?"

"Ye won't believe it til ye see it, so get yer ass down here and help me haul 'im down."

He groaned. "Fine, but yer takin' me to the diner after."

"Deal."

OoOoOoOoOo

"Butter my ass and call me a biscuit that's a moterfuckin' fourteen pointer! He must weigh three hundr'd pounds!" Emmett yelled, as soon as he laid eyes on Oscar.

"Biggest damn buck I ever seen," I said proudly.

He whistled, low and long. "Well, let's get 'im down. My ass hole's suckin' hickeys on my back bone, and yer momma has the best frog legs 'n grits in the South."

"Yeah, come on, Princess, hate for ye t'hafta starve."

"Fuck you, I'm a growin' boy."

"Yeah, sure. Get yer growin' ass over here 'n grab Oscar's hind end and let's go."

After haulin' 'im down and tyin' him to the top o' the truck, I took of my long-sleeved shirt and threw it behind the seat. It had t'be better'n ninety degrees-no way I's wearin' a shirt. Hell, I didn' wear a shirt in the dead o'winter.

Emmett raised his eyebrow at me, but kept 'is mouth shut. He knew I didn't wear a shirt nowhere.

Once we pulled into the parkin' lot of the diner, I jumped out o'the truck to go in, but Emmett hollered, stoppin' me.

"Ye think yer momma's gon' let you in without a shirt, boy?"

"She owns the damn place, why not? 'Sides, e'ryone in 'ere's seen me without it 'fore," I said, crossin' my arms over my chest.

"You dumbass, ye know yer momma don' care who y'are-y'gotta follow the rules. 'S why you keep an extra beater in yer truck," he said, throwing a wife beater in my direction.

As we were a-talkin', more people started showin' up. Pretty soon, people started crowdin' around Oscar, wantin' a better look. I wasn't in the mood to tell the story, so I threw the shirt over my shoulder and ran inside, hollerin', "Good luck, fucker," at Emmett.

My momma jumped on me, o'course, for not wearin' my shirt. I started t'argue, but no self-respectin' southern boy argues with 'is momma. I pulled the shirt over my head and caught sight o'the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen.

She wasn't from Millerville, that was for sure. This wasn't some good ole country girl-she was city. She was wearin' a black dress 'at fit 'er chest like a glove, and some shiny black shoes with a pointy heel. 'Ere wasn't a hair outta place, she wore it down around her face. She was pale, 'cept for a splash o'freckles across her nose. Her lips were real full and pink; I had'ta fight the urge ta'kiss 'er. One look at her pink cheeks and big brown eyes and I felt like the world started spinnin' the other way.

She was so goddamn perfect. I had ta'talk to 'er.

It was real obvious, right off, she was not int'r'sted in me. A'tall. She showed 'er ass a little bit, sayin' I was gross and stunk an'all. With her piss poor attitude, I couldn' help but tease 'er; the way she got all flustered and hateful was fuckin' funny. And sexy as Hell.

When she told me 'er name, it was like she punched me in the gut.

Bella _Swan._

Grandpa Swan's family.

I shoulda known when I seen them motherfuckin' big brown eyes. Her 'n Grandpa Swan had the same damn eyes.

_Damn, I miss him._

Bella looked 'bout my age, so I figured she was prob'ly his granddaughter. I wondered if she was close to 'im, but she hadn't been 'round for at least three years, so I figured she wasn't.

I wanted to fault her for it, but nobody knows better'n me how life gets in th'way.

This trip was prob'ly gon' drive her crazy-she stuck out like a diamond in a goat's ass. She was prob'ly already itchin' to get back to San Francisco.

It hurt to realize that in a few days, that's exactly what she'd do. After the funeral, she was gon' go back home, and not come back to 'Bama again.

Thankfully, Emmett barged in and interrupted us-my feathers was a-gettin' ruffled. I ignored Bella and talked to him. I couldn't even make m'self pay attention to 'er when Emmett asked 'bout 'er.

When 'er daddy came back, Emmett and I left 'em alone pretty quick. We ordered us a mess o'frog legs and grits, and talked 'bout Oscar. I watched Bella while she picked at 'er chicken fried steak-poor girl acted like she'd nev'r seen real food b'fore. I couldn't keep my eyes off 'er as she walked out o' the diner.

E'rythang 'bout that girl had mah attention.

I 'bout fell off m'stool a-laughin' when I saw her stop mid-step and shriek somethin' toward my truck. Guess _that_ would surprise 'er.

"Edward, man, you okay?" Emmett asked, thinkin' I's off my rocker.

"Naw, man. I don' think so," I said, smilin'. I finished in my head:

_I think 'at snotty city slicker's gon' dig 'er way inta m'heart._

**A/N: Reviews are better than Edward wearing camo. **


	2. Deer, Fish, and Tea, Oh My!

****

A/N:

Wow, it's been forever! Maggieloo402 and I fail for not updating sooner. We hope you're still with us-if you are, you'll be happy to know that the next chapter is almost written, so you won't have to wait too long for it.

This story has a play list, and a beautiful banner (made by AlisXGraveXNil)-links are on my profile.

A note about Edward's accent: We've worked really hard to make this as readable as we can-I know if you're not familiar with the accent, it may be hard to read. I'm from Southeastern Kentucky, and Edward's accent is very similar to mine. Also, I've come to realize that I also think with an accent-my internal monologue is pretty Southern. J With that in mind, after a lot of discussion, we decided that Edward will also think with an accent.

Also, huge thanks to DaniaMCullen, PKMarita, and AydenMorgen for all your help.

**Deer, Fish, and Tea...Oh My!**

**EPOV**

I watched Bella stand there screechin'-enjoyin' the show she was puttin' on. Her long hair was swingin' behind her, her arms were flailin' around, and it looked like she was havin' an epileptic seizure right there on the porch of my momma's diner.

"Edward, go help the poor dear. She's gonna go into shock ov'r your dang deer."

"Yeah, Momma, I will."

I got up, walked outside, and stood behind Bella. As soon as the door clanged shut, she stopped her bellerin'.

"_You_," she spat.

"Me, darlin'. How'd ya guess?"

"I could smell you, you stinky bastard. God, you're disgusting!"

"Oh, honey, I love it when you talk all sweet like to me."

She spun and faced me. Her face was blazin', her eyes were wild. Her lips were pursed, and her chest was heavin' like a coon dog that'd just caught its game.

_Fuckin' gorgeous._

"You're the most infuriating person I've ever met in my life! And let me guess, this monstrosity belongs to you, right?"

"Monstrosity? Surely you don't mean Oscar?"

"Oscar? Is that what you're calling that dead animal sprawled across the top of that excuse for a truck?"

"It's a deer, Bella. Y'know, from huntin'. Or doncha know what that is, yank?"

"Oh, I know all I need to know about you, Edward. In fact, I know all I need to know about this place and all the stu-"

"Watch your damn mouth. You can insult me all you want, I don't care. Hell, I kinda even like it. But don't ya fuckin' dare talk like you know shit about this place, or anybody in it."

"What? Hit a nerve, did I, Hillbilly? You kill for fun, walk around covered in deer urine, and everyone looks the other way-like that's normal! Well, guess what? There's a whole world outside Millerville, and anyone with common sense would leave this place and never look back. Unfortunately,it looks like there's a shortage of common sense around here."

"BELLA!" her dad interrupted. "We need to leave. NOW."

"Fine, Dad. I think this 'southern air' is getting to me," she said, rolling her eyes at me.

I could tell 'er daddy was gettin' pretty upset, so I decided to help her out.

"Mr. Swan, Bella and I's just havin' a little diff'rnce in opinion."

He coughed lightly. "I heard. In fact, I think all of your mother's customers are enjoying the free show you two are giving them with their meal."

I looked, and sure 'nough, ev'rbody was starin' at the scene we were causin'.

Bella ducked her head-I could see her cheeks turnin' pink from embarrassment.

_Damn. Beautiful._

I walked away-it looked like she and her daddy were about to have a little talk and she wouldn't want me to hear it.

"Edward, wait," he called after me.

_So much for walkin' away. _I stopped a few feet away, to give them some privacy.

I tried to not listen to their conversation, but I couldn't help overhearing.

"_Bells, will you wait for me in the car?"_

"_Dad! I am not a child! You can't just send me to the car so you and the hick can discuss me!"_

"_Isabella, do you see that bright yellow thing in the sky? Last I checked, the world revolves around it, not you. Now, for your information, Edward here was close to your grandfather-I need to speak to him."_

"_Dad, I-"_

"_Please, Bella. I'll be there in a minute."_

I kept my head down, pretendin' I hadn't heard their entire conversation. I looked up as I heard the sound of gravel crunchin' and Bella said, "Fucking gravel! Can't these people have normal pavement?"

Chuckling under my breath, I watched her stumble before righting herself and sliding into the car. There was just somethin' about that girl...

Mr. Swan cleared his throat, gettin' my attention.

"I, uh...I'm sorry...you know," he stuttered, nodding toward the car where Bella sat, with her arms crossed over her chest and a scowl etched upon her features.

"No harm, no foul, sir," I smiled.

Mr. Swan grunted, changing the subject. "I've heard a lot about you over the years, son. My dad was always telling me how you took care of him-you know, with me being so far away."

He shuffled his feet and averted his eyes-I could tell he was in no mood for the heart-to-heart we were hedgin' around.

I nodded my head in his direction and said, "He was a good man."

"The best," Mr. Swan agreed. He took a deep breath and looked me in the eye as he held his hand out. "Thank you, Edward. For, well, for everything."

I nodded and took his hand before looking away. I was just as uncomfortable as he was.

"Alright, then," he said, dropping my hand. "I had better run-I've got a lot to do over the next few days."

"Mr. Swan?"

"Call me Charlie, Edward."

"Yes, sir," I smiled. "I've got to take the buck over to the taxidermist, but if it's all right with you, I'll come cut Grandpa Swan's grass."

"That'd be great. I'll see you later." He turned and walked to his car. Bella had softened some-she wasn't scowling, but she still didn't look happy. I gave her my best grin and waved, and she rolled her eyes dramatically and looked away.

**BPOV**

The car ride to the hotel was completely silent. I knew I had seriously offended Charlie, but I couldn't find it in me to care. He dragged me to this shithole in butt-fuck nowhere and expected me to smile and tell fucking Edward how great his bloody dead deer is? Hardly.

I stole a sideways glance at Charlie and saw that he was smiling out the window as if there was nothing wrong with this God-forsaken town. The observation made me sigh in frustration and deepen my scowl.

I continued to glare out the window as we passed through what I assumed was the center of town. We passed a barber shop with one of those red, white, and blue striped poles spinning outside the door, a family owned pharmacy a little later where I could see people sitting in the window seats drinking tall milkshakes, and too many antique stores to even count.

"This whole damn town is an antique," I muttered under my breath, earning a sharp look from Charlie.

A nervous feeling began settling in my stomach as we passed hotel after hotel without ever stopping. It was a small town-I knew there weren't _that_ many hotels to choose from.

"Are we almost there?" I snapped after we passed the third hotel, which looked more like an oversized crack house, but boasted the words "Betty's Motor Lodge" on a faded sign outside. The shops had become few and far between and a nervous edge was mounting in the pit of my stomach.

"Almost," Charlie replied simply.

I huffed and sat back in my seat, my worry not assuaged by Charlie's short answer. I tried to ignore the turn into a neighborhood a few minutes later, but my worst fears were realized as Charlie stopped the car in front of an old white house on the corner.

It felt like the bottom dropped out of my stomach as I stared at the old house. "What the hell are we doing here?" I shouted as Charlie stepped out of the car.

He gave me an incredulous look. "Get out of the car, Bella."

I got out and stormed around to face Charlie. "I am _not _staying here," I demanded.

"Yes you are," Charlie replied in a bored tone as he brushed past me and opened the trunk to retrieve our bags.

"Dad, that place is awful. It smells like mothballs and cheap air freshener. I need the internet for work and I _know _Grandpa Swan didn't have wi-fi."

Charlie just stared at me for a moment. "Bella, this is important. We are his closest family. We have things to take care of here. I'm sorry that my father's death is so terribly inconvenient for you, but that's just the way things are. Get rid of this attitude and come inside. Now." He picked up both of our bags and walked purposefully to the front door of the house.

I scowled after him for a moment, knowing I really had no choice, but not quite ready to admit it yet.

As Charlie stepped into the house, he turned to look at me pointedly and then disappeared into the dark interior of the house, leaving the front door open behind him. It wasn't an invitation.

I pushed away from the car I had been leaning against and started toward the door.

The house was just as bad as I remembered, smelling of the odd combination of mothballs and air freshener. Terrible.

"Your suitcase is in your room," Charlie called from somewhere on the other side of the house.

I didn't respond, but moved down the hallway to the bedroom I had stayed in as a child on the few occasions we had visited.

It looked the same as it always had. Faded pictures decorated the walls and the same flowery bedspread that Grandma Swan had chosen decades ago. Charlie had set my suitcase on the bed, so I unzipped it and began rifling through my things, dividing them into piles to put in the drawers.

After I sorted my clothes, I took my bag of toiletries into the bathroom across the hall to freshen up. My hair was frizzy from the humidity, and my sharp bad mood returned at the sight.

After fixing my hair and reapplying a bit of makeup, I returned to my room. It only took me a moment to realize that there was nothing to do here, and I ended up sitting on the foot of the bed, staring out the window.

A few silent minutes later, there was a loud grunt of a motor, and I rose from the bed to find the source of the noise. As I walked to the window, I noticed a shirtless man in the yard next door bent over a lawn mower, pulling the cord to start it. The engine finally choked to life, and as the man stood to push it across the yard, I immediately recognized him.

Edward.

My stomach did a backflip and I darted away from the window.

When my heart stopped hammering, I decided to chance another look out the window. I moved to the corner of the window and peeked out. He had his back to me now as he pushed the mower in the opposite direction.

I watched the muscles move under his tanned skin almost as if the sight were mesmerizing. They seemed to move in rhythm with his long strides, skimming his back as he moved across the yard. I found it hard to believe that he was such a horrid man as I watched him. From a distance, he was almost...attractive.

He had been infuriating today in the parking lot of the diner with his dead deer and cocky attitude, but to be honest, I hadn't been much better. I knew my brain to mouth filter went to shit when I lost my temper, and that was the case today as it had been so many times before.

He probably thought I was a stuck-up bitch. I felt my face redden at the realization. Of course he did. I wasn't happy to be here and that was no secret.

My attention focused back on the figure outside the window, and my heart jumped to my throat.

He was now pushing the mower back in this direction, and I realized he had been staring at me as soon as I glanced up. Our eyes met and a peculiar look crossed his face. He recovered quickly and raised a hand from the mower to wave hello, and I immediately felt guilty for being so rude earlier. It had only made it worse that he didn't appear to be angry with me. I raised my hand to wave back, and his handsome face broke into a grin. My heart thumped admonishingly and I knew I couldn't leave it like this. I held up a finger to indicate for him to wait for me, and I hurried out of the room and down the hall to the back yard.

When I stepped out of the house, Edward was standing at the edge of the patio waiting for me.

"Hey," he greeted casually. Even in such a simple word, I could hear the twang of an accent in his voice.

"Hey," I replied. I knew the words that needed to come, but now that I was standing in front of him, they seemed impossible to say. "Um, how is your deer?"

His straight expression burst into a full smile as he laughed, but he stopped quickly when he realized I wasn't laughing along with him. I immediately felt like the biggest damn idiot to ever walk the planet.

_How is your deer? Really?_

"Sorry, that was stupid," I mumbled. "I don't know what I'm trying to say."

He raised an eyebrow at me and his mouth turned upward into a crooked grin. "It wasn't stupid," he replied. "I've just never had anyone ask me how my dead deer is doing before."

My face burned in a deep blush, but the mention of the dead deer seemed to refocus my attention on why I was here, so I took a deep breath before launching into my apology. "Edward, I was a bitch. About the dead deer, I mean. At the diner. I shouldn't have said that. It's not really my business. It's just... It's different."

He crossed his arms over his chest and his face tilted downward, but he looked up at me. After a long moment, he spoke again. "You wanna come with me tonight to a fry?"

I felt my brow furrow in confusion. "What?"

"A fry-fish fry. We're all going down to the lake this evenin'. You should come."

"To a fish fry?"

He raised his eyebrows at me and nodded slightly in affirmation.

"Um, I don't know," I hedged. "There are a lot of things that need to be done around here before the funeral..."

"If ya want me to forgive ya for earlier, you'll come." A playful smile danced on his lips, and I knew he was kidding, but the guilt from my attitude was eating away at me, so I smiled slightly and agreed.

"I'll go."

The crooked grin on his face turned into a full smile. "I'll getcha around six."

"Okay," I replied, "I'll see you then."

I turned to go back in the house, but Edward spoke again to stop me.

"'N don' worry 'bout earlier. Was my fault too."

I smiled, feeling the weight of the guilt that I had been carrying lift from my shoulders.

"Thank you, Edward," I answered before turning once again and walking back to the house.

I watched from the inside of the door as he went back to the lawn mower and began pushing it again, completing the strip in his own yard and continuing mow through our yard as well.

Back and forth, until both yards were trimmed completely.

As the day wore on, I began to question my decision to go to the fish fry with Edward. At the diner, I would have sworn he was the most despicable man I had ever met, but the guilt from what I had said to him had caused me to forget those feelings.

Once I had a chance to think about it, I began to dread the upcoming evening. I hated fish. I thought I had hated Edward earlier in the day. If it wasn't for our fight, I wouldn't have even considered going with him tonight, but my damn conscience had come knocking and I was stupid enough to let it in.

Fucking Edward. Fucking conscience.

I was angry as hell by the time six o'clock came. I spent half an hour stressing about what to wear, which made me feel like a shit-for-brains teenager going on her first date. I hadn't stressed about what to wear since the ninth grade, but this damn place made me question everything I knew about dressing myself. There was dirt everywhere and half the roads were paved with gravel, which I had learned earlier did not suit my shoe collection. The humidity made clothing stick to your skin, and everything felt stifling, and to top it all off, there was a chance of rain tonight.

My hair, of course, was flying in every direction imaginable, standing out in directions I didn't even know were possible without sticking your finger into an electrical outlet. I had to style my hair in loose waves with half the can of mousse in order to keep it under control. I looked odd when I finished. I hadn't left my hair in waves since eighth grade when Anika Gordon told me it looked like a rat made a nest in my curls.

I now sat in one of the creaky, old rockers on the front porch of the house while I waited for Edward to appear. I half expected to be dumped onto the floor at any moment, so I held very still in the chair, not testing its wobbly legs or crooked gliders. I felt the scowl set on my face, but I didn't bother to soften my expression. Maybe if Edward knew I wasn't pleased about going tonight he would let me stay here. I knew it was doubtful as I remembered the way his face lit up when I agreed to go with him.

Speak of the devil. Edward came strolling out of his house, the screen door slamming with a thwack, twirling his car keys around his index finger.

"Hey, San Francisco, you ready to go?" he called across the yard.

I rolled my eyes. Of course he wouldn't have the decency to come over and actually say hello first.

I stood from the old rocker and gingerly stepped off of the porch toward Edward. I noticed his eyes did a quick sweep over my body as I walked toward him, and I suddenly felt nervous and self-conscious.

After going through every article of clothing I had brought, I had finally decided on a pair of skinny Calvin Klein jeans and a designer top that was decorated with tiny sequins that hung loosely from my middle. The outfit was finished by a chunky necklace and black ballet flats that had a beading and lace design over the toe. Casual was not my style.

It did appear to be Edward's though. He was wearing faded jeans with a hole in one of the knees, a faded tee shirt that once had the Alabama football logo on it, and tan work boots scuffed with mud. He topped it off with the same camouflage hat that he had worn earlier, the edges tattered and worn and the dust giving it a faded hue.

He walked toward the truck sitting in his driveway, then stopped to wait for me to reach him.

"Hop in, pretty lady," he invited.

I cocked one eyebrow at him and crossed my arms over my chest.

"This is the same truck you were driving earlier," I stated simply.

"The one 'n only," he replied.

"The one with the dead deer strapped to the top."

"This' the one."

"I'm not getting in there." I shook my head in denial.

"'S fine!" he countered. "I put a tarp o'er the roof so the blood doesn' get'n the truck!"

I rolled my eyes, not considering that any consolation. "Where are the doors?" I asked, surveying the rusty old vehicle with disdain.

He grinned like a little boy who had just eaten a worm. "Emmett's got 'em. He took 'em off last Spring, thinkin' it'd be some great joke-leavin' me without mah truck-but I don' mind. N' fact, I like it better like this. Natural air conditionin', don' have to clean it, and no hassle gettin' in 'n out."

I choked back a laugh. He was serious. He liked his old, beat up, pickup truck with no doors that smelled like it belonged in a landfill somewhere.

"Well, I'm not getting in there," I said. "It's disgusting and it will mess up my hair by the time we get there. We're taking the rental car."

"I ain't takin' no rental car! 'Specially not if _you're _the one drivin'!"

"Really, Edward? You're going to add chauvinism on top of the list of _admirable _traits you possess?" I asked sarcastically, turning on my heel to go back inside and get the keys for the rental.

He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back against his truck. "Sugar, do you wanna add being judgemental to the top of _your_ list of admirable traits?" he called after me.

I threw him a dirty look over my shoulder and hurried to get the keys to the car.

I came back out of the house within the minute, the keys to the silver Toyota Charlie had rented in my hand.

"Come on, let's go," I demanded.

I moved toward the car, but when he didn't follow, I turned back. I followed his smirk in the direction of the front porch of the house, where Charlie was standing with a glare on his face.

I knew from the look on his face that I would not be taking the clean, air conditioned Toyota we had rented in Birmingham. After a brief argument, I shoved the keys into his hands and spun on my heel to walk back to Edward's truck.

He was still standing there with that damn grin on his face, like he knew this would happen all along, and it only served to infuriate me more.

"'S not that bad," he said in response to the look I was giving him. "Hang on a secon'."

His outstretched arm stopped me before I could make it to the door of the truck. He leaned into the cab and pulled out a flannel shirt that was surprisingly clean. He unfastened the buttons along the front of the shirt, then spread it out over the seat of the truck.

He turned back to me with a proud smile that made his handsome features dance like a child's. "There. Now you don' have to get them fancy jeans dirty."

I was taken aback by the gesture, and I didn't know whether I wanted to snap at him for making fun of my clothes or to thank him for his thoughtfulness.

I ended up saying nothing, and he gave me a quick wink before circling the truck and gracefully pulling himself up into the cab of the truck. I gingerly followed his lead, trying not to touch the grimy surfaces of the dash or the frame of the truck while I climbed in.

The truck gave an obnoxious jolt and the engine sighed as he put it in gear and began backing out of the driveway. I found a hair tie in my purse and pulled my wavy hair back into a ponytail before the wind could run through it, turning it into an even bigger mess.

As I pulled the elastic tight over my hair, I felt Edward's eyes on me from the driver's seat, and I turned to look back at him, but as soon as our eyes caught, he snapped his attention back to the road.

"Eyes on the road, please," I mumbled uncomfortably.

He chuckled lightly and began turning the dial on the radio, flipping through the numerous static channels until he settled on the worst noise I had ever heard. Steel guitars echoed through the speakers while a male voice crooned unintelligibly. He smiled and adjusted the volume so that the sound filled the cab over the noise of the wind through the open space.

I stared at him, my mouth gaping. "_This_ is what we're going to listen to?"

He turned to me with mock hurt in his expression. "This here's Conway Twitty, darlin'! It's classic!"

"It's obnoxious," I countered.

He rolled his eyes before turning down the radio. "Well if you don' wanna listen to the radio, you gotta tell me somethin' 'bout yerself."

"I'm from San Francisco. I work for a fashion magazine."

He puckered his lips and whistled softly, raising one of his eyebrows at me. "A fashion magazine, huh? Go figure. Which 'un you work for?"

"_Vouge_. I work as the Fashion News Director."

"You shittin' me?" he asked.

"Am I _what_?"

He shook his head in dismissal, then restated his question. "Are ya really?"

I smiled slightly, still proud of my new position. "I just got promoted. It was a big step."

"Well congratulations," he said admirably, turning his attention back to the road ahead.

After a few more minutes, I saw the glint of the evening sun off of the water of a lake up ahead, and I knew we must be almost there. There were cars lined up all along the edge of the gravel road, and Edward pulled into place beside the last one before shifting the car into park and hopping out. I slid out, careful to keep the shirt between me and the filthy seat of the car.

I heard the sound of a band playing over loudspeakers as soon as the overwhelming noise of the truck stopped, and I automatically cringed from the noise. I felt an arm hook around my back, and glanced up to realize Edward was smiling down at me, his eyes dancing with inaudible laughter again. I cringed away from his arm slightly, but allowed him to lead me toward the noise of the band and the mass of voices coming from the other side of the trees ahead.

Evening was just starting to fall on the wide area next to the lake, but there was still enough light reflecting off the lake to observe the scene as we walked past the tree line. Blankets were spread across the grass, dotted with families, couples, and groups of friends. There was a pavilion off to the right where people were gathered around tables hosting the dishes of food, and there was a platform next to the pavilion where a band was setting up and a guitarist was picking the strings of his guitar. The land seemed to roll down to the water, where the shore was scattered with rocks of all different shapes and colors, and people were fishing from a short pier. There were old men with fishing hats on and young children in overalls, all with long poles dipped into the rippling water, and as I watched I saw a young boy squeal in delight as he pulled his pole back out of the water. The water dipped and swirled, dancing in the last rays of light before the sun disappeared below the mountains on the other side of the water.

I felt Edward's arm nudge my back again and my eyes left the scene in front of me as if I were snapping out of a trance.

"'S pretty ain't it?" he asked, looking out over the lake in front of us.

"I guess," I replied quickly. I wanted to find something to distract my attention, but being in an unfamiliar place left me nothing to do but take a few steps forward and pretend to find interest in the guitarist on stage.

He smiled that lopsided smile that showed a glimpse of perfect white teeth beneath. "C'mon," Edward urged, placing his hand on my back and leading me toward the stage.

I shrugged away from his hand and scowled at him. I may have agreed to come here with him, but that was no invitation to touch me. As far as I was concerned, he was still the man who reeked of deer piss. No tanned muscles and perfect smile could erase that downfall.

I followed him to the foot of the stage where he swung himself up to sit on the platform and yell at the man tuning the guitar.

"Hey, Jas!" he called.

The man looked up suddenly and found Edward sitting on the edge of the stage, and a smile grew on his face.

"Hey, Edward! I didn' expect to see ya here after what all's happened!"

Edward shrugged and allowed Jasper to pull him up to stand on the stage. "Nah, man, I cain't just do nothin'. I brought Swan's gran'daughter with me t'night."

He motioned to where I was still standing at the foot of the platform, and I pretended to be interested in something else rather than just standing there staring at them. As I looked out at the water again, I heard them both jump down from the stage beside me.

"This here's Bella Swan, Swan's grandaughter," Edward waved between the guitarist and me. "Bella, this' Jasper, good friend of mine."

"Hi Jasper, it's nice to meet you," I replied.

Jasper opened his mouth to return the greeting, but Edward cut him off.

"So you _do _know how to give a proper greetin'!" he exclaimed. He nudged Jasper and muttered, "You should'a seen the greetin' I got. She's madder'n a wet hen."

My mouth popped open in shock, and I glared at Edward. "And _you _were so polite!" I argued sarcastically.

"Cain't say I didn' try, darlin'," Edward shrugged. I sighed heavily and turned to learn against the stage, looking out at the water rather than at Edward and his friend.

They continued speaking, but I ignored their conversation for the most part, sending disgusted looks their way when I heard the conversation turn to me or the dead deer.

A few long minutes later, a small, dark-haired girl came toward where we were standing. I couldn't tell if she was skipping, floating, or running-or a combination of the three. Her clothes were...eccentric, to say the least. Her tight black pants wouldn't have been so terrible if they weren't riddled with hot pink duct tape down both legs and covering the two back pockets. Her shirt looked like a BeDazzler had thrown up on it, and she had a headband in her hair that had hot pink feathers flying from it in every direction.

"Jas!" she squealed, jumping into his arms.

I watched as she wrapped her thin arms around his neck and he leaned down to kiss her.

"Guess that's our cue to leave 'em alone," Edward muttered, turning to me as if he were attempting to joke.

I nodded, but before we could walk away, the small woman broke her embrace with Edward's friend and stopped us.

"Wait, you cain't leave!" she squealed. "I just ha' to say a proper hello to Jasper." She peeked at the blond man from beneath her lashes in a flirtatious look.

"Aren't you goin' to introduce me to your friend, Edward?" she asked.

Edward rubbed the back of his tanned neck awkwardly, as if the situation bothered him, before giving a brief introduction. "Alice, this' Bella Swan, Mr. Swan's gran'daughter. Bella, that's Alice, Jasper's girlfriend."

A broad smile covered Alice's face as she stuck out her hand for me to shake. As she pumped my hand vigorously, she looked me up and down.

"I love your clothes," she commented before letting go of my hand. "And those _shoes_!" she gasped.

I had never heard the word "shoes" pronounced with so many syllables, but I took the compliment graciously. "Thank you, they were actually given to me by a designer I did a piece on last spring."

"A _designer_?" Alice questioned. "What do ya do? Where're ya from? How d' ya know designers? _Oh mah God_, what did ya say yer name was?"

I must not have disguised my shock at the deluge of questions very well, because Edward responded quickly.

"Cool it, Ali! Good Lord, I tol' you, her name's Bella Swan. She's from—"

Alice's high pitched squeal cut Edward's sentence short, and she fumbled with a bag that I hadn't noticed thrown over her shoulder. She came up a moment later with a copy of _Vogue _magazine, practically slapping my face with it as she started bouncing slightly.

"You write for _Vogue_!" she squealed. "I cain't believe this!"

To say I was shocked would have been an understatement. It wasn't entirely rare that someone recognized my name, especially since my promotion, but that was usually in the fashion circles of San Francisco—not the backwoods of hicktown Alabama.

"I gotta go get Rose," Alice panted, out of breath from all the bouncing and squealing she had been doing.

As she ran away, Edward turned to look at me with a look of shock painted on his handsome face.

"Did I miss somethin'?" Jasper said.

Edward looked at me the same way, and I felt like someone had switched a spotlight onto me under their questioning stares. I shrugged shyly before saying anything.

"I write for _Vogue _magazine in San Francisco—it's a fashion magazine. I'm actually an editor now." There was an awkward silence while the men processed what I had said—probably trying to figure out what I was talking about—while I searched for something else to say. "Um, does Alice like fashion?"

Jasper grunted a laugh. "Yeah, I guess she follows it about as well as somebody can in this town."

I tried to contain my laugh—that explained the unique wardrobe choice. At least she tried, right? I only had to take a quick glance at Edward to be reminded of how bad it could be.

It didn't take Alice long to come scurrying back toward our small gathering beside the stage, dragging a tall blonde woman by the hand.

She came to a quick stop in front of me and looked between me and the other woman. "_See_!" she exclaimed.

The blonde's mouth popped open and she just stared at me.

"Bella Swan! What are you doing here?" she finally exclaimed.

"I, um, my grandfather died," I murmured.

Her hands flew to cover her mouth, as if she hadn't realized the question might have been hurtful. If I had really known the man, it may have been.

I felt Edward wince beside me, and I stole a glance at him. He was glaring at the blonde.

"Rosalie, 's tha' really necessary?" he shot at her.

"I didn' know!" she squeaked. "I'm sorry, Edward!"

He rolled his eyes before turning to me. "You hungry?"

"No, that's okay," I replied, smiling at Rosalie so that she would know there were no hard feelings. "I love meeting people who actually know who I am."

The three of us girls laughed together, and Rosalie looked relieved that she hadn't offended me.

"So," Alice began slowly, "Do ya min' tellin' me who the designer was that gave you them shoes?"

"It was actually Manolo Blahnik. We did a piece on his spring collection a few months ago and he admired my take on his style. He let me pick something from the collection as a thank you."

Alice and Rosalie were both staring at me with wide eyes and broad smiles as I spoke, as if my world were endlessly fascinating to them. To me, it was stressful and hectic. I enjoyed telling them about the designer and our interview, and they asked endless questions. I thought they were going to lose it when I referred to the designer as "Manny", a nickname I had begun using in my extensive time working with him. I told them that he was a genuinely nice guy, and he even had a sense of humor when you teased him.

I smirked when I realized Edward was listening to what the girls and I were talking about, even though he was pretending to be engrossed in the music the band was now playing behind us.

"You know anything about Manolo Blahnik, Edward?" I teased.

"I don't know who that is!" he cried in defense.

I rolled my eyes playfully and laughed at him as his tanned face took on a pink tint. Rosalie and Alice noticed and began teasing him mercilessly while I continued to giggle at his discomfort.

"Um, so, you ready to go get some food, Bella?" he asked when the teasing calmed.

"Sure," I replied, feeling a grumble in my stomach that reminded me of the lunch I had barely eaten at the diner. Hopefully there was something partially edible here.

Edward began leading me toward the pavilion on the far side of the area, and I turned back to Alice and Rosalie.

"Have you eaten? You're welcome to come with us."

They both responded with smiles and nods and soon the four of us were weaving through picnic blankets and lawn chairs toward the pavilion that housed the food.

"Where's yer dumbass boyfriend?" Edward called over his shoulder to Rosalie as we neared the tables sprawled with food.

She reached up and smacked the back of his head and glared at him, but responded anyway. "He's comin'. He's workin' out at the park this afternoon."

Edward just nodded.

As we neared the pavilion, a horrible stench hit my nose, and I automatically stepped back, nearly crushing Alice behind me.

"Bella!" Alice squeaked. "Is everything alright?"

All three of them turned to look at me, and I couldn't help the horrible look on my face. The smell was incredible-like something dead. Something that had died a few days ago, and had been festering in the hot southern sun.

Edward, of course, was the first to start laughing at me.

"'S the fish," he said between fits of laughter. "It smells bad, 'n she ain't never smelled it before."

Soon, the girls joined him in laughing, while I was still struggling to breathe through the overpowering stench.

"'S just the fish, Bella," Alice said in an attempt to be soothing. "Don' worry-it tastes nothing like it smells."

I barked a laugh at that. If it tasted _anything _like it smelled, it would kill us all.

"Come on, Bella, we'll fin' somethin' you'll like," Edward said, motioning toward the tables covered with various dishes-half of which I couldn't identify.

Alice and Rosalie just laughed as they picked up plates at the end of the table and began taking spoon-fulls of the dishes from the tables. Edward went in front of me and picked up two plates from the table and followed the two girls down one side of the table. I watched as he heaped one of the plates with almost every dish available, while carefully considering the dishes he chose for the second plate. I recognized two different kinds of biscuits on the second plate, a too-large piece of fried chicken, green beans with a gravy sauce, some kind of corn goo that I was unsure about, and a pasta salad that I was happy to see.

As we reached the end of the table, I realized the stench had been coming from several heaping plates of fried fish.

"Which 'un you want?" Edward asked, looking from me to the fish.

I surveyed the fish with wide, confused eyes and I shrugged my shoulders.

"I'm not sure I want any of those..." I said hesitantly.

He laughed and tipped a crooked grin in my direction. "Bella, its a _fish fry_, you gotta at leas' try somethin'."

I scrunched my brow as I inspected the fish, finally pointing to one of the smaller pieces. He forked it off the plate and dropped it onto the second plate in his hands, right in the middle of the rest of the dishes that had already been placed.

"Edward!" I screeched as I watched the fish drop.

He jumped and turned toward me quickly. "What! What's wrong?"

"You put the fish on top of everything else!"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "And?"

"It's all touching!" I whined.

He started to laugh, but quickly stopped when he realized that I was not joking. "I'm sorry," he quickly apologized. "What's wrong with that, sweethear'?"

My face twisted in disgust, and I snatched my plate out of his hands and used the fork I had picked up to scrape the fish away from the rest of the dishes, then worked to ensure a space between each of the side items.

He watched me while I worked, and I could see an amused smile playing on his lips.

"What?" I snapped as I finished dividing the food.

"What're ya doin'?"

I glared up at him. "What does it look like?"

"Looks like you's gotta prob'm with yer food."

"We'll see about that," I determined, inspecting the food on my plate again. "I just don't want the different foods to touch."

He let out a deep, throaty laughter that had his entire face turned up in amusement. "'S all goin' to the same place, darlin'!"

I rolled my eyes at him; I heard the same thing every time someone noticed my eating habits-minus the southern twang. "But it's the way it tastes getting there that matters," I quipped, turning toward the table that ran horizontal to the ones draped with food where the drinks were lined up.

I looked over the different Coca-Cola products and finally decided on one of the tall glasses of iced tea that were lined up at the end of the table. A hot summer evening like this called for something more thirst-quenching than the sugary carbonated mess of a soda.

I picked up my drink and turned to Edward, who was giving me an odd look as he glanced between my tea and my face. He didn't say anything, and I followed him once he picked a glass of tea for himself out to the place in the grass where Alice and Rosalie had spread a blanket and sat with their plates.

We got comfortable on the blanket-well, as comfortable as one can be sitting on the ground-and I began poking at the unidentified foods on my plate.

I hated to look like a dumbass, but I had a serious rule about never eating mystery food. I learned my lesson after I had dined with a Asian designer in San Francisco and unintentionally ordered Frog Sashimi. _That _was an experience I never wished to relive.

"Edward," I whispered, leaning close to him so Alice and Rosalie wouldn't overhear, "What is all this?"

His lips pulled back into a smile as he looked from me to my plate. I expected a snide comment, but I was pleasantly surprised. "That's corn puddin'," he said, pointed to the pale goo on my plate, fried chicken, green beans 'n fat back with butter, macaroni salad, butter biscuit, and a hush puppy."

I glared at the dishes he had identified before picking up my fork and sampling a small bite of the macaroni salad. It only took a moment for the taste to register in my mouth. _OhmyGod._ Mayonnaise. Someone had put mayonnaise on pasta. The macaroni salad tasted like dog food, and I forced myself to swallow the barely-chewed food as quickly as possible, reaching for my iced tea to wash the taste away.

As soon as I took the first swallow of the tea, I realized it was not simply iced tea. There was sugar in this tea. Lots of it.

I forced myself to swallow the startling flavor, and as I set the glass down, I realized Edward, Alice, and Rosalie were all howling with laughter.

"What?" I shouted, giving them all equal scowls.

"Well, honey, the fact that ya didn' like the macaroni salad was 'nough to get us all 'riled up, but then ya tried to down it with the sweet tea! Ya must not have known it was sweet!" Alice laughed.

"_Sweet _tea?" I asked incredulously. "Who does that?"

"You don' like it?" Edward asked, shocked.

I smirked. Between the dog food taste in my mouth from the food and the shock of the flavor of the tea, I hadn't really been able to determine my preference.

The three of them stared at me as I took another sip of the sweet tea. I let the flavor sit in my mouth for a moment while I thought about it, and then swallowed.

"It's a little strong, but I like it," I declared, causing their faces to light up like I had just announced a cure for cancer. "It'd be good with vodka."

The small group around me sat silently in thought for a moment before Rosalie commented.

"Vodka?" She questioned, a smile growing over her ruby red lips. "Cain't say I ever thought of that 'fore." She and Alice exchanged nods while Edward just shook his head.

The girls and Edward began eating, and I began pushing the food around my plate after it seemed we had all decided to try sweet tea and vodka at some point. We listened Jasper's band and commented on various things around us for a few minutes, until a burly man in camo came loping toward our blanket.

I recognized him from the diner earlier in the day, but we had never been introduced.

"Edward!" he crowed as he flopped down on the blanket next to Rosalie. "It's yer Yankee gal!"

All four sets of eyes turned to glare at him, Edward's most of all. "Shut the fuck up, Emmett! Ya think I don' know who's sittin' here b'side me?"

The man shrugged and turned to me. "I'm Emmett," he announced, sticking out one meaty hand for me to shake. I couldn't find it in me to give him a cheerful smile after his rude comment about me, the "Yankee girl", but I shook his hand anyway.

"Bella," I replied simply. He shook my hand vigorously, oblivious to my attitude.

When he let go of my hand, he threw his large arm around Rosalie and gave her a noisy kiss on the cheek.

"Gawd Em, don' be such 'n ass," Alice admonished, rolling her eyes. "Tha's Bella Swan."

Emmett leaned forward so that he could look past Rosalie at Alice. "I know who she is. She's Swan's gran'daughter. Here fer... well," he stole a glance at Edward, "yah know."

"_No_, you dumbass! She writes for _Vogue_," Alice snapped.

"N' I care cuz..." Emmett trailed off, then as an aside to me, "No offence, Bella, I jus' don' pay 'tention to fashion."

"None taken," I mumbled, suddenly very uncomfortable with this conversation.

"Yeh wanna go somewhere else?" Edward whispered, leaning toward me and glancing around our group as if he knew they were bothering me.

I nodded, standing quickly and waving at the girls. "I'll see you later," I said politely with a smile.

Edward placed his hand on my back as he took the styrofoam plate from my hands and took it to one of the industrial sized garbage cans lining the perimeter of the area.

I watched him as he walked toward the can, and gave him a small smile as he turned back in my direction.

There was something different about Edward Cullen-something that went beyond the thick accent. When he wasn't covered in dirt and deer piss, I actually didn't mind being around him. He had a kind way about him that was unexpected, but pleasant, even if it was somewhat unfamiliar. He was genuine-a trait that seemed hard to come by these days. His authenticity helped helped me feel relaxed around him. I suppose that is what drove me to agree to spend time with him alone.

As he approached me and once again placed his hand gently on my back, I obliged to his direction and followed him down to toward the lake.

**E/N: Reviewers get a teaser for the next chapter. :)**


	3. Take My Breath Away

**A/N: What's this? An update? :) Thanks for sticking with us!**

**First, Maggie, I heart you. You're the red to my neck, for real. Second, this chapter is so much better thanks to the talents of DaniaMCullen and pkmarita. Love you guys! And finally, huge, HUGE thanks to horsesrthebest1234, for giving us some musical inspiration. **

**In order to properly enjoy this chapter, you need to listen to Country Boy's World, by Jason Aldean: **

**http: (space)/www (.) youtube (.) com/watch?v=5AoK4HB2Ey0&playnext=1&list=PL56A39486079786AD&index=24 **

**Just remember to get rid of the (space) at the beginning and () around the periods. It sucks that FFn doesn't let you properly link things! Remember to check out the playlist and banner (properly) linked on my profile.**

**See you on the other side!**

**Chapter 3: Take My Breath Away**

**BPOV**

As we were walking away from Edward's group of friends, we passed the table of God-awful food, and I saw red plastic cups and gallon jugs filled with delicious sweet tea.

Edward nodded toward the table as we approached. "D'ya need anything 'fore we go any further?"

The sensible thing to do would have been to ask for a bottle of water. But, that tea was delicious-and I hadn't really been accepting of any 'southern hospitality' that anyone had offered me. If I took more tea, I could practice being a little more gracious to the people that had been so kind to me, and get something I really enjoyed. It was a win-win situation.

"Can we get some more tea before we go?"

"Sure thang," he said, and led me toward the table.

Grabbing a cup, I took a large drink. When I brought the cup down from my lips, I was more than a little surprised to see that I had drained the entire glass.

Edward noticed the situation, and chuckled in my direction.

"Y' like sweet tea, huh, darlin'?"

Embarrassed, I said, "Um, yeah, I guess so. More than I realized."

"Let's get som'more 'fore we go down to the dock, y'wanna?"

Against my better judgment, I simply nodded in his direction.

"Thanks," I mumbled as I watched him pour my drink.

It was odd having someone do things for me. From the shirt over his dirty truck's seat to throwing my trash away, he had been oddly... attentive this evening. I had thought it would bother me, but it had actually been nice.

He handed me my drink and I smiled a quick thanks in response before he poured his own.

As we walked down toward the lake, he spoke again. "It pro'bly seems kinda strange goin' down to the lake when ya cain't see nothin' out thur, but it's one of the best times t' see it. The lights 'n the stars 'n all. 'S kinda purdy."

I simply hummed in response, glad he didn't want to go back to his friends. Emmett's boisterous behavior was obnoxious, and I was glad to be rid of him quickly. And, even if I hated to admit it, I enjoyed Edward's company.

We wandered down through the crowd of people toward the water, Edward guiding me with his hand at the small of my back. We reached the edge of the water and turned to walk toward the pier where people had been fishing earlier.

There were only a few fishermen remaining, mostly what looked like the serious type, with chairs set up and coolers by their sides.

Edward ambled out onto the pier and I followed, both of us walking in silence as we made our way to the end.

"You havin' fun here?" he asked when we stopped walking. He leaned back against the railing of the pier and crossed his arms over his chest.

I shrugged and leaned against the railing next to him, looking out over the water. "It's been okay," I replied. "I like Alice and Rosalie."

He laughed softly. "They seem to like you too."

I smiled back at him.

He turned around so that he was looking at me as the smile faded from his face. "You didn' wanna come t'night."

It wasn't a question, but I felt like I needed to defend myself.

"No, it's fine," I said, glancing down at the water, away from him. "It's great."

His hand moved to the small of my back again and he nudged me slightly so that I would look up at him again. "Don' lie to me."

"I'm sorry," I began. "I got into this whole mess because I insulted you and lost my temper-I just didn't want to do that again."

He nodded slowly, scrutinizing my face as I spoke.

"Which I really am sorry for," I amended. "I should never have said those things to you at the diner. I felt bad all afternoon."

His hand began a small circuit around my back, up to where my hair fell, down to the small of my back. It made me feel better-knowing I hadn't offended him too badly.

"I told ya it's alrigh', Bella," he said. "Ya know ya made it up t' me by comin' out here t'night."

I smiled gently in response.

I would have liked to stay angry at him-to ignore this redneck slob for the duration of my visit and leave without a backward glance-but he was too damn kind to ignore, even after I insulted him. I had been a bitch and I had been rude and insulting, yet here he stood, rubbing my back and offering forgiveness when we both knew it wasn't deserved. There was something about him that drew me in; when I let myself forget about the deer piss and dirt, he was oddly comforting to me.

His hand had stopped moving in circles on my back, and his fingers were now running through the ends my hair, twirling the wavy pieces and letting them unwind before he twirled a different strand.

I studied the water in front of us, watching the blurry shape of the moon dance on the small waves and tried to pick out the stars from the dark surface. I could see several of the brighter ones, dancing along the waves just like the moon, coming in and out of focus as the water moved.

"There's so many stars here," I mused, looking from the water up into the actual sky above us. "I've never seen so many."

"Cain't imagine ya would out there in San Francisco," he replied. "They're there, just like they are here. When there's less goin' on you notice the little things like that. Folks don' got time for stars in San Francisco so they just block 'em out with their city lights and pretend like they ain't missin' nothin'."

I hummed lightly in response while I looked at the sky. "I've never noticed before."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Edward lift his shirt over his head, leaving him in a tight, black muscle shirt. I refused to ogle him-I had to keep my mind focused, and Edward in a tight shirt was too distracting.

"Ya wanna sit, Bella?"

I turned toward him to see that he had spread his tee shirt across the worn boards of the pier, providing a cozy place for us to sit.

Without speaking, I sat beside him and stretched my leg in front of me, mimicking his position.

Our bodies were connected, our shoulders, hips, and thighs nestled together. I could feel his warmth even through the thick summer heat around us, and even through the stifling climate, it was a pleasant, comfortable, secure feeling.

After a moment, I began feeling awkward sitting so close to him, not saying a word. It felt too intimate for my own liking. I needed a distraction. After studying the sky for another moment, I pivoted back toward Edward.

"What do you do all the time out here? Besides killing deer. It seems... well, really boring, to put it bluntly," I asked.

He chuckled as he turned his face down to look at me again. "It can be. Me an' Jasper an' Emmett go huntin', fishin', hikin'. I got a job up' the park. Imma ranger there with Emmett. He got me the job when... Well, he got me the job."

I nodded, wondering what else he was going to say, but uncomfortable pushing the issue.

"Whatcha do when yer in San Francisco?" he asked.

"Well, there are definitely no fish fries," I laughed. "And no hunting, fishing, and hiking. I work a lot-I really love my job. I go out with my friends..." I trailed off, unsure really about what I did for fun.

He nodded when I finished.

"N' ya like the city?" he asked.

"Very much," I said with a smile.

He nodded again, and continued asking questions about me and my city, my interests and hobbies-it seemed like we talked about everything. He asked me about books and movies and TV shows, and I was surprised to learn that we had some of those interests in common.

The conversation flowed easier than I thought it would, and I ended up laughing more times than I could count. I seemed to momentarily forget that he was disgusting, obnoxious and well...all the things that made me dislike him before. For now, he was just Edward, a genuine man with a bright smile who always knew just what to say.

Our conversation slowed, and I traced the pattern of the boards of the pier. I could feel Edward's eyes on me, studying my face, but I didn't meet his gaze immediately.

When I did, his green eyes seemed to sparkle, even in the dark of the evening around us. "Do ya wanna head back t' the party?" he asked, nodding with his head toward the area where Jasper's band was playing at full volume.

I nodded. "Sure."

He easily hoisted himself to his feet and then reached his hand out to help me up. I took it, and he gently lifted me off the ground, but didn't release my hand after I stood.

I awkwardly gaped at our joined hands for a moment, but as soon as he noticed my stare, he dropped my hand as though it had shocked him.

Neither of us chose to say anything about it; instead, we began the short walk back up to the main area together.

Emmett, Rosalie and Alice spotted us as soon as we began walking in their direction and waved. Thankfully, neither of them mentioned our absence, as I suddenly felt awkward about our time together.

"Bella!" Alice squealed as we approached. "I'm s' glad you're here! Ain't Jazz great?"

She turned toward the stage and made googly eyes at the guitarist. He winked in her direction before she turned back to me and sighed deeply.

I smiled at her, and she launched into a description of their evening as Rosalie and Emmett wandered off, seeming to want some private time. I was mostly unaware of Edward still standing by my side until he leaned in closer to me and whispered a quick, "I'll be back," into my ear.

I jumped at his close proximity, but I nodded and smiled at him as he walked away, quickly turning my attention back to Alice as she kept talking.

She was telling a story about a practical joke Emmett played on Rosalie when the music from Jasper's band drifted to a close and there was a moment of silent shuffling around the stage before a low, familiar voice resounded over the speakers.

"Hey y'all, hope yer havin' a great evenin'. 'S sure been a good 'un for me. Jasper 'n the guys 's lettin' me git up here and sang a li'l 'cause I got somethin' I gotta say t' you."

Edward seemed to emphasize the last word of his sentence as his eyes met mine from the stage. I felt a tingle dance down my back, and I stiffened automatically.

Before I had time to consider my reaction or the implications of his words any further, he stroked the first chords on the guitar strings. The sound sent the same tingles cascading down my spine. The sensation was paralyzing, and all I could do was watch as he continued to pick at the strings of the guitar as they softly formed the melody of the song.

When his voice broke through the gentle sound of the guitar chords, all the air left my body. His naturally smooth voice practically caressed the words he sang. I noticed that, standing on the makeshift stage, surrounded by people who obviously adored him, he commanded attention.

His long legs were shoulder-width apart-his stance was open, confident. His shirt clung to his chest; as atrocious as those muscle shirts were, I couldn't deny that I loved the way they accentuated his chest and broad, tanned shoulders. Edward was looking down at the guitar that hung around his hips, clearly lost in the song. When a lock of his messy hair fell into his face, my fingers twitched with the need to touch him.

He was undeniably and unbelievably beautiful.

"It's nice when they saing a song to ya, ain't it?" Alice said, breaking through the haze of lust that had settled over me.

"Huh?"

"Oh, honey. The look in his eyes says it all. Even if that song didn't sound like it was written for y'all, I'd 'a known he was saingin' for ya."

This time, when I looked at his face, his sparkling emerald eyes met mine, and I felt like the earth stopped spinning. All I could think, feel, or see, was Edward. His passion. His intensity. If the eyes are the window to the soul, Edward was opening the curtains.

He nodded to me gently as he sang the words, _"Just give me a chance to change your mind, so before you go and fly away girl, let me show you 'round a country boy's world."_

My heart swelled in my chest. Alice was right. He was singing to me. I listened as his words wrapped around me.

_With just a bite of homemade ice cream,_

_And a glass of momma's sweet tea,_

_This ol' holler's got a way of makin' friends._

_She'd never seen a glowin' field of fireflies,_

_Or the twinkle of a star in a southern sky_

_She fell in love._

Just the way he said those words made butterflies take up residence in my stomach. I felt my face flame as a smile spread across my face.

Unbidden, my inner voice of reason broke through. This was wrong. Edward may have been gorgeous, and incredibly sweet, but that couldn't mean anything.

I had a life in San Francisco, and he had a life here. We were two very different people living very different lives. Sure, we shared some of the same interests, such as a love of Family Guy and a distaste for Lady Gaga, but those weren't the things you based a relationship on. He loved the gravel roads that ran through this God-forsaken town, while I loved the click of the asphalt under a new pair of Jimmy Choo's. He was content with the slow pace of life here, while I thrived on the bustle of the big city. He was a simple kind of man, and nothing about me was simple. Nothing could change the fact that he shouldn't cause such a reaction in me.

But, damn, all the logic in the world couldn't change the fact that Edward had the ability to make my heart flutter.

The song had swelled to its climax and began to slow when Edward crooned, "_She gave me a chance and I made her mine."_

It was too much. I had to get away, just for a moment. The song was coming to a close, and I couldn't face him. Not yet. I needed to collect myself.

I looked around frantically and found a small brick building with two doors, side by side. A sign was hung above the doors that said, "Guys and Gals Commodes" with arrows pointing to either door.

I hoped that meant 'bathroom' in English.

I walked as quickly as possible to what I prayed was the women's restroom, sighing in relief when I realized I was right. I ducked into a stall, closed the lid, and sat on the toilet.

My mind was racing, and I struggled to catch my breath.

Edward.

Me.

Me and Edward.

Edward and me.

Deer piss.

Perfect smile.

Dead deer.

Truck with no doors.

The way he touched me.

Muscle shirts.

The way he tried to take care of me.

That damn sex-hair.

Me.

That fucking song.

Edward.

Camouflage.

Edward.

That fucking _perfect_ song.

I leaned forward so that my hands were cradling my head, and I was staring at the cheap linoleum that covered the bathroom floor.

I stared at the floor, not focusing on any particular thought, but rather letting my mind fly in what seemed like thousands of different directions. My current confusion made a mess of everything I knew, and soon thoughts, feelings, facts, and emotions were mixed into a murky cocktail that I couldn't make sense of.

I scoffed at my current situation—sitting on the lid of a "commode" in ass backward Millerville, Alabama, trying to collect my thoughts and feelings after the most disgusting, beautiful man I had ever met sang a song to me that seemed meant for us.

Of course it wasn't meant for us, though. No, I didn't belong there. I didn't belong _with him_. I didn't even like that place. The hills and the mountains were an amazing backdrop to the lake, fields, and the wide open space, but I was not suited for gravel and dirt.

Edward was. With his faded clothing, ripped jeans, and easygoing nature, he was suited for this simple, country town.

I couldn't fit here and he couldn't fit in San Francisco; that's all there was to it. We were too different.

The sudden drop of my heart as those words spun through my head startled me, but I didn't have time to consider the implications of my traitorous heart, because at that moment, I heard the door to the restroom creak open and two girls' voices began to echo through the tiled space.

"Gawd, Jess, I don' know why y' messed up n' let that 'un go."

The second girl scoffed. "Ugh, please. It was mutual...we jus' decided not t' be t'gether anymore. 'Sides, Mike is so much better."

The first girl snorted. "Mike? Over Edward Cullen?" I heard a breathy sigh, and then she began speaking again. "I mean really, did you _see _him up there? He's perfect."

I felt a breath catch in my throat at the mention of Edward's name.

"It's 'em black muscle shirts. Dem ders God's gift t' women all o'er," she hummed in appreciation.

"Mmm-hmmm. And, damn, 'is voice sounds like sex 'n honey," the first girl practically moaned.

The girls both giggled together before the second girl sighed. "If y' think that's somethin', imagine what it's like _durin' _sex."

"Oh, please, it's been s' long y' know y' don' remember!"

There was a pointed silence.

"Hmm, well maybe he'd be willin' t' give me a 'minder course."

"What makes y' think he'd do somethin' like that? Y' know he's hangin' all over ol' man Swan's granddaughter."

I wanted to cheer.

"I cain deal wi' that mess. Eddie jus' needs t' be 'minded I'm th' bes' girl for 'im."

"And what 'bout Mike?"

"C'mon, Lauren, y' know me an' Mike ain't _really_ t'gether right now," the girl, Jess, said exasperatedly. She took a deep breath, and said, "All I know is, he were mine b'fore, an' it's time he 's mine again."

The burn of jealousy igniting my body was now too strong to be ignored, and I felt my face redden as the image of Edward with another girl entered my mind, unbidden.

Even as my blood seemed to boil, the rational side of my brain told me that I shouldn't care if this girl went after Edward. Hell, it would probably even be better. Then, I wouldn't have to come to another damn fish fry with him and he would just leave me alone for the rest of the time I was here in Millerville.

I focused on the floor again as I let that thought sink into my mind.

The heat slowly receded from my body, but in its place, it left a hollow, sad feeling. I searched for a label for the feeling that had replaced the jealousy, but the anguish left me speechless.

I listened again for the sounds of the girls' conversation echoing around the restroom, but was surprised to realize that they were gone. My heart thumped heavily in my chest, and my eyes widened when I realized that, whoever that girl had been, she was now off looking for Edward.

I shouldn't have cared. I had no right to an opinion on Edward's love life. I was a friend, if even that. We had known each other for a grand total of nine hours. Hardly enough to even call us acquaintances, much less friends. I shouldn't have cared who he was dating or kissing or whatever the hell he was doing with that girl.

But I did.

I didn't want him to be with that girl who talked him up like some local celebrity. I wanted him to be with me.

It was the first time I had actually admitted it to myself, though I had realized it from the moment I heard him singing to me. It was illogical and impractical and selfish and a thousand other terrible things, but I was past caring.

Why did it matter if we were different? Opposites attract, right? I wasn't going to deny myself something just because it, or rather he, was different.

If different meant making my heart flutter with the touch of chords on the guitar or the sincerity in his voice when he complimented me, different was just what I had been looking for.

Even if I could only have him for a few more days.

But what if Mrs. Edward Cullen over there had already found him? What if he thought I didn't want him, so he was kissing her instead?

I felt tears prick my eyes and my heart pound in my chest, and in that moment, I knew how absurd I was acting, but I didn't care. I had to find Edward and apologize. I had to let him know that I wanted to take that chance he offered while he sang. I was done with logic.

I left my porcelain comfort zone, finally unlatching the door on the bathroom stall. I only chanced a quick glance in the mirror. Anything more and I was afraid I would lose my courage.

I pushed the bathroom door open with a heavy creak, and my eyes fell on a figure curled against the wall next to the door.

I froze there in the doorway, staring at him, unmoving. My mind had prepared me for the worst, but the desolate man crouched before me was nothing like I had planned.

His head shot up at the sound, and my eyes met the deep emeralds that were now full of so much hurt and confusion, lacking the joyful sparkle I had seen earlier.

"Bella," he breathed gently, the single word full of relief.

**EPOV**

Shit.

Shit, shit, _shit._

What the fuck did I just do? Did I really just saing a song to Bella? Did she realize it was for her?

_Of course she did. _I'd made damn sure o'that by lookin' at her while I sang.

I could feel my blood rushin' through my veins; my pulse was throbbin' in m'ears.

I needed to calm down. Fast.

Without lookin' toward the spot where Bella was standin', I walked quicker n' a minute to a patch o'woods down by the lake where folks wouldn' bother me.

I sat on an ol' tree stump and tried to concentrate on mah breathin'-slowin' it down 'fore I passed out. I was bein' such a fuckin' sissy. Ain't nobody on God's green earth tha' ever had this effect on me.

Runnin' my hands through mah hair, I figured I had t'be losin' my mind. Just yesterday, Grandpa Swan had died and I was s' tore up I couldn't see straight. Then I saw 'em goddamn brown eyes in mah momma's diner, and it was like all 's right with th' world.

Fuck. That ain't even been 12 hours ago. How the Hell did this girl get under my skin like this?

I hadn' had as good a grip on mah emotions as I should since Grandpa Swan passed. Losin' him hurt more 'n I cared t' admit.

I felt angry, hurt, and sorta lost with him gone. Hell, I could barely wrap my head around the fact that he wouldn't be tellin' me t'get mah head outta my ass anymore.

What I was feelin' for Bella just didn't make sense. Could she have just caught me in a moment a' weakness? I hated t' think that; I didn't like feelin' like I couldn't even trust mahself.

What the Hell had this girl done to me?

She was gorgeous, but anybody'd see that. It'd 'a been easy to think she was a bitch-but if y' looked close 'nough, you could see what kinda person she really was.

At the diner, I'd egged 'er on; I'd wanted t' see her eyes burnin' toward me. And damn if the sight o'her angry didn't make my dick twitch.

Anybody wi' that much passion had t'be a firecracker in bed.

I groaned and took a deep breath, shakin' the image of her ridin' my cock from my head.

When she left the diner, I 's feelin' pretty guilty for pissin' 'er off like that. I didn' know her from Adam; I had no business doin' that.

I hadn't expected t really talk t'her again. I figured she'd avoid me best she could. Then, outta nowhere, at her grandpa's house, she asked about Oscar.

Bella didn't seem like the kinda person t' really care 'bout huntin', and she sure as shit didn't seem like the kinda person who fumbled 'er words around. I couldn't help but chuckle at her nervous ramblin'.

She damn near knocked the breath outta me when she apologized. She coulda ignored me until after the funeral, and went back t'her life without a word. I _expected_ 'er to.

Turned out, she 's too big hearted t'do that. Bella did what she thought was right, even if it was hard for 'er.

I had t'fight the urge to hug her...I really was smellin' like a stainky bastard.

I wanted her to know me, not the cocky asshole that reeked of deer piss and sweat. On a whim, I invited her t' the fry. I thought we'd have a good ol' time an' then part ways w'out her hatin' ev'rthing 'bout me.

Then I'd brought 'er here and she started lettin' her guard down, little by little.

It was a lot o' little things at first,the way she looked at the lake, her 'spression when she saw th'stars, an her knee-jerk reactions to fine southern food. I loved the way she drank sweet tea like a trucker and laughed with mah friends.

One o' the things that told the most about 'er, though, was the way she was with Alice. I loved Alice like she 's my kin, but she was diff'rnt, even by city standards. 'Round Millerville, a lot o' people cain't handle anybody standin' out like she did. She didn' have a lot of friends,and had been the talk o' the town more 'n once. Aside from her...original...clothes and overexcitability, Alice was as good as they come. Most people don' get close enough to 'er to know that.

Bella accepted her 'n treated 'er like they'd been friends for years. That showed a helluva lot of character in my book.

Bella Swan may 'a been feisty, but she was _good_, through n' through.

Damn, I couldn't get enough o' this girl. It was comfortable bein' around her; we talked about ever'thing and nothin'. I was hangin' on to ev'ry word to come outta them pretty lips.

I didn' know what made me saing with the band. I 'specially didn' know what made me saing that song.

All I knew is that Bella had managed to wrap me around 'er little finger without even tryin'.

I had to have a _chance_ with her.

I knew I'd scared 'er, but shit, I was scared too. Nothin' about the day made sense. That girl made me crazy. She made me feel things she shouldn't 'a been able to. I shouldn't a' wanted her like I did. I was caught up in ever'thing about 'er.

Her lips.

The way she looked when she was pissed.

Her big ol' heart.

Her temper.

Them big ol' brown eyes that gave 'er away.

_Fuck it,_ I thought. _I meant every word o' that goddamn song._

I had t'find 'er, talk to 'er. I had t' make this okay.

She _had_ t'give me a chance.

I stood and began walkin' back t'ward the crowd as fast as I could.

"Edward! Yoo-hoo! Edward!"

I flinched at the sound o' Jessica Stanley hollerin' my name. We'd dated fer a few months after I moved back home. She wasn' real happy when I broke up with 'er.

She was runnin' t'ward me as fast as she could; she was leavin' her sidekick, Lauren, behind. I figured I'd better stop 'n get it over with.

"Hey, Jess. What's up?"

She huffed and puffed 'fore battin' her eyelashes at me. "Silly, I just wanted t'talk t'ya. Y'did such a good job with th'band." She reached up and touched mah arm as she spoke.

Jerkin' my arm away, I said, "Yeah, thanks. Listen, Jess, that girl I's with, y'seen 'er?"

She stiffened. "Girl? Y'mean old man Swan's granddaughter?"

"Yeah, I need t'find 'er. Y'seen 'er or not?"

Her mouth curled up ov'r 'er teeth slowly; I was sure it was meant to be a smile, but it looked more like a snarl.

"Oh, sweetie, ya must be crazy. Ya don' stand a chance wi' the likes o'her. Maybe if you'd a' finished school an' did somethin', she'd think o'ya that way.

"But since y'came back here after y' daddy's accident...well, we all know y' just gon' stay 'round 'ere the rest o' yer life." She patted my cheek. "Don' get me wrong, sugah, you're the bes' this town has t' offer. T' someone like me-the best girl 'round here-you'd be ev'r'thing. But t' that city girl? Ya ain't enough for 'at girl, honey."

I ground my teeth t'gether-I had never wanted t' hit a girl s' bad in mah whole life. "Ya know what, Jessica? You're right. I ain't 'nough for her. But I'll tell ya what-I'm too damn much fer you."

I spun away from her and ran straight into Alice.

"Alice, I-"

"Bella is in th' bathroom, Edward," she said in an eerily calm voice. "You go on, now. I b'lieve it's time me and Jessica have a little talk."

Fuck. I didn't want t' leave 'er, but I needed t'get t'Bella. I looked up and saw Jasper headin' toward us. I nodded in his direction, relieved I could leave the standoff between Jessica and Alice.

When I reached the bathroom, I crouched by the door t'catch my breath.

I knew I shouldn' let Jessica get t' me, but damn, that shit hurt. She had a real talent for findin' someone's soft underbelly an' exposin' it to th' world.

The bathroom door swung open, and Bella walked out with a determined look on 'er face.

"Edward," she said breathlessly.

I stood and wiped my hands on mah jeans, and looked at 'er.

"Bella, listen, I'm sorry. I didn' mean t' scare ya off. I just...aw, Hell, I don' know what-," she cut me off by puttin' her fingers on mah lips.

"Edward?" she said as she ran 'er fingers along mah jaw.

"Yeah, Bella?" I said, stunned.

"I-I liked the song."

That was all the encouragement I needed. I reached for 'er, feelin' the soft skin o' her neck under mah fingers.

"Bella?" I said, inchin' my face closer t' hers.

She let out a shaky breath as she threaded 'er fingers through my hair, pullin' me t'ward 'er.

I paused when I could feel 'er warm breath fan across mah face and looked into 'er eyes. "I'm gon' kiss you now, if that's alrigh' wi' you, darlin'."

I gave her a second t'change 'er mind, t' pull away. When I couldn' wait any longer, I gently pressed mah lips t' hers.

**E/N: More coming your way soon! :) Reviewers get teased. **


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